"Then we will take the horses without the carriages."
The mayor called in two more men: they considered the pass once more.
"You may have the carriages two days more," he decided at last. "Go to Tutigne. As far as that the carriages will travel. There are many horses there, and you can get pack ponies."
Coming out we ran into Colonel Stajitch of Valievo. The colonel is a Serbian gentleman, fine figure, beautiful face, and white hair and moustaches. He greeted us, asked us our news. We told him of our projected journey. He became thoughtful and after a while said good-bye. We took our convoy through the town to a field on the outskirts where we pitched the camp.
We borrowed the corporal's axe and hewed for some time in a thorn hedge, without getting much profit but many prickles, and finally decided to take a paling from a Turkish cemetery, for there was no one about.
Soon we had a jolly fire, and Cutting and Whatmough got to work on the food. Dr. Holmes turned up. He had arrived the day before and had found lodgings in an inn. West's arm was still inflamed and very painful. The doctor looked at it and said it needed more incision. West and Miss Brindley went off with him.
An old ragamuffin wandered up with a loaf of maize bread. He offered it to the corporal for three dinars; but the corporal took it away and gave him two. The old man made a great outcry. We demanded the cause. The unlawful corporal was again hailed to justice, his corporalship seeming more valueless than ever, and to give him a lesson we bought the bread for three dinars, for it was worth it.
We suddenly discovered that none of the Red Cross men had papers or passes. What was to be done? We were conniving at an almost unlawful expedition, and Jan was very doubtful if we could cross the Montenegrin frontier. But after a consultation we decided to bluff it into Montenegro if necessary, and then telegraph to Cettinje to help us out.
It was now dark and West and Miss Brindley had not come back. So Jan and Jo went off to look for them. We searched two cafés—meeting again with our old acquaintance the schoolmaster from Nish—plunged into all sorts of odd corners, and at last met Colonel Stajitch in a restaurant. He greeted us.
"I have a great favour to ask," he said diffidently. "If I might I should like to give to you a little appendix. It is my son. He is seventeen, but is very big for his age. If the Austrians catch him I do not know what will become of him."